


Allowable Mistakes

by yourebrilliant



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-01
Updated: 2013-04-01
Packaged: 2017-12-07 04:11:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/744082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourebrilliant/pseuds/yourebrilliant





	Allowable Mistakes

John was aware of something important dragging him from the warm sanctuary of deep sleep. Something, something...cold! That was it, his back was cold. Normally Sherlock was wound around him like a Slinky, all long limbs and curly hair, his face pressed against the back of John’s neck.

‘Sherlock?’ he whispered into the darkness. ‘Sher?’ Rubbing his eyes, John squinted at the clock. It looked vaguely like two am but it was an analogue clock and John’s brain appeared to be wired for digital at this time of night. Or morning.

Yawning widely, he slid out of bed, grabbing a jumper in the absence of Sherlock’s body heat, and padded downstairs. As he approached the lounge, he could just make out the orange of streetlights, the irregular flashes of car lights and the slow beat of smoky blues played very quietly. Sherlock’s armchair was turned to face the window and Sherlock was draped over it, looking like he’d just fallen into it, staring out into the night.

‘Sher?’ John repeated, shuffling closer. ‘What is it?’

Sherlock looked round from the window, wearing the reassuring smile he plastered on when strangers looked at him like he was an encyclopaedia short of a library. ‘Nothing, John. Go back to bed.’

‘Bollocks,’ John retorted, not the least bit fooled by the reassuring smile. He began to pick his way across the obstacle course of their front room.

‘You are asleep on your feet,’ Sherlock responded. ‘You should return to your sleep.’

‘Same to you,’ John commented, nudging Sherlock’s arm off the chair so he could perch on the armrest and tuck his cold feet under Sherlock’s long legs. ‘Is this about this morning?’ he asked abruptly. Sherlock’s silence responded for him. John sighed. ‘Sherlock, I know you were disappointed but, don’t you think this is a bit...much?’

‘I made a mistake, John,’ Sherlock said quietly, his brusque tone not quite masking the guilt he was obviously feeling. ‘A mistake that could have cost a young woman her life.’

‘Yeah, but it didn’t, though, did it?’ John asked, reasonably. ‘I mean, you still figured it out, we still caught the guy, and no one needed so much as a plaster, which is more than can be said for most of our cases.’

Another yawn overtook John and he propped his head in one hand, the other arm slung across the back of the chair, his fingers stroking comfortingly through Sherlock’s curls. ‘Contrary to popular opinion,’ he continued, tugging one curl gently to make Sherlock look at him, ‘you _are_ actually a person. A proper living, breathing, human being - albeit a highly intelligent one - but, Sherlock, being a genius does _not_ make you infallible.’ Sherlock frowned at this. ‘No,’ John interrupted. ‘I know what you’re thinking, and I want you to take this seriously. You are human, human beings make mistakes. They’re _allowed_ to. That applies to you just as much as it does to the ignorant masses.’

‘Or you,’ Sherlock said quietly. John smiled at Sherlock’s distracted insistence on separating John from the ignorant masses.

‘Or me.’

‘Anderson-’ Sherlock began, remembering the way the odious man had castigated him for his oversight.

‘Anderson is a petty fool who has made more mistakes than I’ve made cups of tea,’ John interrupted fiercely. He leant closer, his eyes blazing. ‘This is the man who thought Jennifer Wilson spent her last moments scratching out “Revenge”. In _German_ , Sherlock!’

Sherlock chuckled slightly at that.

‘Much better,’ John commented, leaning over to rest his forehead against Sherlock’s. They were quiet for a moment.

‘How many?’ Sherlock asked, when John had almost fallen asleep again.

‘How many what?’ John asked, sitting up straighter.

‘Mistakes.’ Sherlock’s green eyes were wide in the gloom, his eyebrows raised questioningly. ‘How many mistakes are human beings allowed?’

‘How many? I...there isn’t a _quota_ , Sherlock,’ John said. ‘Fine, he added, catching sight of the determined look on Sherlock’s face. ‘Twenty five,’ he said, clutching a number from the ether. ‘Okay?’ Sherlock nodded, looking solemn. ‘And, Sherlock,’ John added, quickly, ‘that’s not for putting Fairy Liquid in the washing machine or ordering the wrong takeaway or something. You can make as many of those mistakes as you like.’ Reaching out, John gently brushed the curls out of Sherlock’s eyes. ‘It won’t matter to me.’

Leaning in, John cupped Sherlock’s cheek with his other hand and pressed a warm, loving, accepting kiss on his lips.

‘Thank you, John,’ Sherlock murmured, when they broke apart.

‘Not a problem,’ John muttered, yawning again. ‘Now turn off that depressing music and come back to bed.’ He clambered off the chair arm and padded back across the room, Sherlock following behind him. ‘You big drama queen,’ he added fondly.


End file.
